I bleed my resistance,
But you will never bend my knees.
I will not come with you.
You will not take me.
I will lie, defiant,
Hunched in the dark
Until I bleed my last.
And breathe no more.
You will not drag me,
Bedraggled
Into the maw of hell,
Or into hedonistic heaven.
I will fight,
Until my blood runs empty.
And as I lay in the dust,
Numb and hollow.
I will have beaten you
One last time.
Feb 10, 2011
Feb 10, 2011 at 12:39 PM UTC
Trapped as the mime,
Inside four walls.
You scream,
A frightened sobbing scream,
Echoing back to you.
As the sound devours,
And the conscience does not forgive
The foolishness of your hedonism.
The hurt comes,
From Soul and Hand.
But mostly from the absence of pain,
Rendering you rictus.
Curled up, nestling away
From cushioned, leisurely survival.
Nothing to despair in,
Save from the confections of your head.
Sanguinem animarum.
Feb 10, 2011
Feb 10, 2011 at 12:13 PM UTC
You tell me I am not myself,
Yet can you tell me who I am?
Perhaps who I was and will be
Are two entities divided
by a sea of sorrows.
I will seek my answer,
When the war inside my soul
Brings forth it's manifestation
In flesh and blood.
From my captive being
Where nestled melancholy,
Can rush forth to battle.
And bring me peace again.
Let me awaken, again
For another last time,
Not wiser, but wounded
One turn closer.
Bring me peace.
Feb 2, 2011
Feb 2, 2011 at 1:45 PM UTC
Where did you go, my love, my freedom?
When did you become so enigmatic
Fleeing as my child spirit withers?
So many questions had I for you,
Before you left me, cold and downcast.
Looking into the mud at my feet.
Denied the shimmering sky above me.
Why is it so, that I am trapped,
Among the odious weeds of some sea
Where unspeakable realities grab my ankles,
When all had promised it would not be so.
I feel trapped tears now,
Upon my trapped soul.
And cannot cry for want of a shoulder.
I cannot weep my words truly onto page,
For they emerge weak and corrupted,
Manifestation of my incompetence
I cannot stand my foolishness,
For they once told me I had knowledge.
They did not tell me true.
Jan 31, 2011
Jan 31, 2011 at 1:39 PM UTC
As the follower sheep,
Send forth their crooked emissaries.
To bend the goodness,
with a sinister sickening voice
I fold my arms,
Inside my head,
And stare you down.
My eyes will burn.
My look will unsettle.
The more you try,
The more resistant I become
To following you.
You may hold your belief dear,
And it may comfort you.
But know this, If it comforted me,
I would be by your side,
And not opposite You.
Showing the wrath of the proselytised.
Jan 31, 2011
Jan 31, 2011 at 1:05 PM UTC
I feel the fire of awakening,
Blazing behind my eyes.
But I shall sleep now,
And let it wash over me
To purify.
As the evil is repulsed,
Like black oil from water
banished from my being.
In the morning,
I shall rise,
And I shall fight you.
Jan 20, 2011
Jan 20, 2011 at 12:21 PM UTC
So long asleep,
But now I see me.
In the sand where I was left,
Awake under the suns glow.
So long thirsting,
But now I throw
Myself, head first,
into a cool clear oasis.
My mind feels clear
And like so many times before
I want this to be true.
Jan 15, 2011
Jan 15, 2011 at 10:40 AM UTC
You kneel, shivering,
Overlooking your world.
With the knowledge in your mind
That here is the core,
Here is most true.
The eyeless storm,
with cold grey lightning,
and crushing thunder,
lording over a world
of ash and dead trees.
Like a draught
From the mouth of a demon,
the screaming wind
savages your form,
snatches at you heartlessly.
The gale is the only sound,
To permeate this plain,
And it steals your joy,
And batters you onto your knees.
Trying to render useless your escape.
You want to run
To hide away in pain,
But there is only here now.
This dreamscape you created
Within you.
Jan 9, 2011
Jan 9, 2011 at 12:10 PM UTC
They make no words for thee,
And had they done so
I am too weak a man
to weep such things
onto white ****** paper,
Much less to hold such words,
And pass them to you in a kiss
Such unmade words are a fleeting foolishness,
Cunning against my heart.
May I remain a foolish man
Lest the words be passed,
Through loves cruel lottery,
And your beauty become another's,
On a whim of sadistic chance.
I can never know if the words are true,
Like the feeling which spawns them,
Which no two can compare,
And in their doing so can both be wrong.
Perhaps not one of us is right,
and all of us, Brothers in idiocy.
We know not words which are not made.
The words describe a fleeting spark.
A moment passing if not grasped,
to another and another.
Weak and unfortunate Is the man,
Myself, who cannot create these words.
But again the wheel turns,
For they make no words for thee.
We must not Love
Yet love we must.
Jan 5, 2011
Jan 5, 2011 at 2:56 PM UTC
Here I sit,
Trapped in the doldrums
Of a sightless sea.
No wind blows the sails
In my dormant mind,
And my pen can spew no ink,
For no thaughts come forth
To carry it.
Beautiful faces
Cry for words and tears,
But are unanswered,
For in my head no muse can stir.
I feel wretched here.
No words can I weep to page,
For my tears are spent
On trivial matters.
Jan 5, 2011
Jan 5, 2011 at 2:10 PM UTC